Metal Gear Solid: The Fourth
by BrandNewKenji
Summary: Within Gorznyj Grad, Logan Cloud stays in his cell. With no idea why, his answer literally approaches him...


**Metal Gear Solid - The Fourth**

_I do not own Metal Gear Solid._

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The chilling cold struck him piercingly, withdrawing to a corner of his cell, he curled up holding onto his knees. Unknown to why he was sent as a convict all the way to Russia, he recollected past events that may have been the cause for his imprisonment. Left without an answer, he stayed still in that corner. Breathing out, his breath becomes visible upon his face. Still trying to discover why do such a thing, his thoughts were interrupted by one of the guards that kept watch. He looked up to see his covered face, and paid no attention to who he was, just affirming that he was only here to do his job. Staring at the floor once more, he heard footsteps approaching.

A woman's demanding voice echoed though the barren prison, "Rookie, leave this area at once!" He heard a faint response, but didn't hearken to it.

Bringing his sight upwards, he caught sight of a woman wearing sunglasses, despite it was night. "What is it you want?" He asked.

"I was wondering why you were convicted… Do you have any leads?" Her voice was as commanding as possible, and he doesn't respond. "Answer me!"

Replying curtly, "Why should I?" He saw her irritated expression, and he could care less about how she felt.

Leaving his sight, he suddenly heard someone tripping from a distance, although he just ignored and kept brooding over the fact about being here in Russia, with no idea why he was sent here. Falling into bitter despair, he believes to finally have all the time in the world to himself, may it be even if he were to be alone. Rising to his feet, he sluggishly made his way to his bench of a bed. Hands behind his head, recalling facts and maybe opinions towards himself, about his sudden imprisonment, were quite bleak. After being sent to a frozen hell three weeks ago, and his guards also putting up the same type of shit… Wait, those two are probably enjoying themselves in a warm and cozy shelter within the base. Disgusted at this kept fact, he shuts his eyes.

Desiring to be pulled into a deep, never-ending sleep; impossible, for those two would have to keep him alive, no matter the cost.

After some time, he still couldn't get himself to sleep, sure, his limbs were, but his mind kept itself awake with thoughts that spurred through the past three hours or so. Shaking off the awkward, but already adjusted feel, he sat up. Maybe this was something he should go through… And the honorable path is to see this uncalled punishment to the end. Falling on his back, he suddenly heard the noise of metal clanking.

"I, too, agree about your decision." Rubbing his eyes, he could make out the figure of a man from all the blur, due to his failed attempts to fall asleep. "But I do not."

Shocked about what this man was saying, he moved his eyes away from him, now staring at the ceiling, caring less about what this person may look like. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm planning on getting you out of here." He said.

Rising to his feet, "Is this true?" The man wore a dark suit, along with sunglasses accompanied by a mask covering the bottom half of his face. He, of course wanted to get out of this damned place, but to do the correct thing struck the back of his mind. "This is my one chance to leave… But, I mustn't." He thought.

"Well, what'll it be?" Asked the masquerade again, holding onto his chin. Thinking deeply, he made a choice, "No."

He heard the man say something, but, it was too soft for him to have heard. What was it that he wanted, would he benefit from his release? It would only bring him a burden, after all. To keep a convict within your vicinity, and be involved with him… Makes little sense. The man then snaps his fingers, and runs away. Abruptly, he heard the entrance to the jail open.

"Hey, you!" With a tray in her hands, "Its time to eat."

"You're just lengthening this hell of mine…" He said under his breath, which he deemed was ignored by her.

Sliding the tray through an opening on the door, he looked over carefully, this didn't seem like any other meal that he had seen. He expected the average ration that he would consume everyday, but this time, it was more like someone actually cooked his food for once, rather than just microwaving it.

Walking over slowly, and taking the tray from this woman's hands, "Uhmm… Thanks…" He said softly, holding a rather confused look.

"You're welcome." She said with a smile, which he had never seen her do before, or… Is this a whole new person, but his assumptions were taken down, "We ran out of your rations, so I had to make do of what I had made. Just be grateful you get to eat." Her last statement was without any tone, her smile flushing away with it.

He felt disappointed, not knowing what he felt that for, he took the food for granted. She left, and he started off with the soup that had cabbages and meat. He took a sip, then he ate the rest with the meat, ignoring the vegetables. Suddenly, a familiar voice disrupts his peace.

"That there is Shchi. A Russian soup, although you should've ate it with the cabbage… that's the spotlight after all." He said, with his back on the cell's door.

"What is it with you?" He asked, but the man simply shrugged. Grabbing a kabob, the man yet again opens his mouth, calling what he was eating a Shishlyk. "A Shish-what?" He impudently asked.

Repeating himself again, he draws out a key from his sleeve. "Well?"

Dropping the piece of meat, he stood up, "Stop your attempts, for I will not accompany you in any way." Clenching his fists, "My decision is final." He then hears a small laugh.

"Ya sure?" He tempted once again, which was becoming a cliché within his mind. Spinning the key on his finger naively, he still kept on urging.

Reaching his limit, "Just leave me alone!" The spinning key was halted, and the man withdraws it to his sleeve.

In a calm, serious, and straightforward tone, "Are you foolish enough to let pride get in the way of reason?" Backing a bit from this, the man continues, "I have leads as to why you may have been taken here."

Springing up to his feet, he clutches the man's collar through the small gap of which the tray was brought from, demanding to repeat himself. The man calmly obeyed, and thoughts overcame his mind. This was turning into utter nonsense, but reason overcame, giving him more space. He always wanted to understand why he was brought here in the first place, and this man may as well be the only key as to understand this whole charade. But, his honor takes control, and so his honor and reason clash, making the choice much more complicated than it was supposed to be.

Releasing the man from his hands, "I will." From his words, the door was unlocked, and he let go of his pride, well, for now. He went on to eat the rest of his kabob, or Shishlyk as this guy called it. He finished the rest of his meal, drinking down the water that was on his plate, but he stopped. Asking if there was to be an explanation, the man shakes his head, saying that what he was drinking was nothing more than your regular-glass of water. Unexpectedly, he caught sight of a male guard entering from behind.

Rushing towards his cell, pointing the gun towards the man who set him free. The guard's aim was shaky, "Stop where you are!"

"We are, aren't we?" Taunted the man in the suit. "From the looks of it, you're still new to firearms."

"Shut up!" Struck the guard, whom he believed to be a novice. After being laughed at, the guard releases a shot to the ground, causing his aim to become steady.

"Really now," he heard the masked man say in an unruffled attitude, "Do you think that keeping calm is enough to gain an advantage?"

He was amazed, at how this man can keep his cool, even in the most dire of situations, but hearing him say that keeping calm is not enough, puzzled him. Was he to do something else, or was he just making a bluff?

Seeing his head move over to one side, shifting his gaze towards the door, "Oh…" He said, in a pleased manner. Not understanding what this would prove, the guard's body began to take a brief turn back, and very quickly, the man whom was just in front of him was already up ahead. Grabbing the throat of his vulnerable opponent, lifting him up. Making a statement, "Life ain't fair, kid."

From what he saw, this man throws the guard to the side effortlessly. Amazed, the guy then kneels down before his unconscious opponent. Positioning his shoulder to the guard's abdomen, then rising up and walking towards the exit, "Follow me."

Leaving his cell, once and for all, he had to face another challenge, walking in this cold with little clothing. His shirt and pants weren't enough to withstand this chilling weather, and he sneezes on the first few steps. Dropping to his knees, he thinks about having to go back to his cell, until this man sends him better-suited clothing. Holding onto his chest, he gives out a breath that was even more noticeable than normal. "It's cold…"

He looked down on the frozen, snow-covered field. With footsteps coming in closer, he shut his eyes, with his mind still on the cold. "Get up." Were the harsh words uttered by this man, whom he still doesn't fully know. After a few more moments of sulking on silently about the cold, the man repeats himself once more, with hostility. Refusing, he suddenly felt a sharp jolt to the side of his body. He was kicked. Why?

Dropping on his back, with eyes now meeting the man's sunglasses, he can see a crease on his forehead. A slight shock of pain went through his body, causing him to hold onto his new bruise. Feeling fury overcome, "What the hell is your problem?"

"You wanna get outta here or not?" He struck with disgust, his face indicating even more anger, quickly adding, "Stand up, and quit whining!"

He offered out his hand, but was slapped away. Finally having the resolve to stand up, he continues to walk off on his own. Not caring where he went, he kept limping to his invisible destination. Looking back, he sees the man staring off into blank space, and he carries on, but he stopped. Not even looking behind, "Who are you?"

There was silence, but he manages to hear a response, "I am Kenji, and I already know who are…"

Looking up, a smug crosses his face, "Oh… Really now?"

"Of course, how do you think I found you here to start with?" Noticing that Kenji was already right beside him, "You are Cloud, Logan Cloud." Holding a smile, Kenji's expression seemed confused. "I know you have no idea, but I at least have to inform you why you're here…"

A sudden impulse to hear him out came to mind. His throat became dry, and seconds seem to have lasted forever. He forgot about the cold, and the desire to learn about himself heated his being. After Kenji spoke those words, pure shocked surged through his mind and body.

"You are the result of Les Enfant Terribles… You are the Fourth."

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**A/N: **I'll put this on a halt. I'll continue it soon, maybe three years...Or less?


End file.
